25. Boston

CHAPTER 25

BOSTON

I had bruises on my knees from Ford's kitchen floor, and my joints ached as I stood at the security desk for The Black Door later that night. The girl at the desk looked at my ID and raised a delicately arched brow in Ford's direction. He schooled his features, doing his best to appear unaffected by her silent question, but I understood the weight of what I'd asked him to do.

With both of our IDs returned, Ford tightened his grip on my hand and led me into the front room of the club which, save for the amount of skin on display, looked like any other upscale bar in Manhattan. There was a decent amount of seating, lots of exposed brick and frosted glass, and dim and moody lighting washing over the whole space except for the dark hallways that stretched toward the back of the building.

"Don't talk to anyone," Ford said, the words sharp and almost angry against my ear. "You're here with me. Do you understand? You're mine ."

The insistence in his voice was beyond hot and I told him so, which earned me a flush on his cheeks and a tick in his jaw as he led me to the middle of the room toward the bar. Ford held my hand tighter than a vise grip, and I didn't think I'd ever been as turned on in my whole life. It didn't matter that the room was full of men, it was something about the unbridled possession in his tone and his movement that had me ready to crumble at his feet and beg for…

I didn't even know what.

For anything, at that point.

Everything. All of it.

All at once.

"We don't have to stay," I whispered, partially because I didn't want him to have a heart attack from the stress of it and partially because I would have been content to go home and have sex with him again.

"I want to." Ford's eyes were wide, and he pulled us together until I could smell the mint of his toothpaste between us. "I never want you to wonder about things. I want you to have everything you've ever wanted, sweetheart."

His lip quivered and he snapped his mouth closed, almost like he hadn't meant for the words he'd just said to come out. My breath caught somewhere in the middle of my chest, and I answered him with a silent nod. He led me to the bar, ordered both of us a drink, never letting go of my hand.

"Do you want to stay here or see the upstairs?" he asked, passing me my cocktail.

"I don't know. You tell me."

He traced his tongue across the front of his teeth, weighing his options. "The upstairs is more private, but also more…open."

"Both of those things sound nice," I said.

He studied my face, dark eyes scanning me from chin to hairline, undoubtedly searching for any doubt or lie. But he would find none. Ford had woken something inside of me that had been long dormant, and it wasn't just my attraction to men. I might not have as much experience with kink as my brother and his friends did, but I'd seen enough on the internet to understand the logistics, and Ford had already began to fill in the blanks with his instructions.

Kneeling for Ford was right in a way I couldn't explain, whether it was as a resting place or to put his cock in my mouth didn't matter. I enjoyed letting him take the lead in things. It made me hard, and I hated that he was so nervous about it. We'd done so much talking about the growing dynamic in our relationship, but I couldn't shake the feeling he was still handling me with kid gloves. I didn't just want him to choose where we ate or when, I wanted more, but I also had no interest in changing. I wasn't going to be scared to ask for what I wanted, just because I was leaving it up to him to give it to me.

We found ourselves alone in the elevator, and I pressed him against the corner of the small space, needing him to understand.

"I'm not scared of this," I swore against his mouth. Ford's hands carefully settled themselves on my hips and he dropped his head against the wall. "You're not going to do or say something that's going to scare me off."

"What if I hurt you?" he asked.

The elevator reached the top floor and the doors slid open with a smooth and silent glide. Before I could answer him, he used his hips to bump me off of him, then took my hand and walked me into the new space. It was a lot like the main floor, but I immediately understood what he meant when he'd said it was more private and also more open . The lights were dimmer and if I thought there was a lot of skin downstairs…

Ford weaved his way through the maze of people and tables, finding a quiet space in the corner for us to stand. We could both still see everything around us, but a shadow from one of the walls cast a dark veil of secrecy over half the corner.

"If you hurt me, I'll tell you to stop," I promised. "It's not any different from sex. If you were doing something I didn't like, I would tell you. Why do you think I wouldn't when it comes to this?"

"People haven't," he answered, lifting his drink and taking a swallow.

"I'm not people."

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. "No, you're not."

"It turns me on to do this," I said to him, not for the first time as I lowered myself to my knees. I nuzzled my face against his fly and inhaled the musky scent of him. Mixed with the crisp smell of his detergent and sandalwood soap, Ford smelled like a dream. He stared down at me, doubt warring in the back of his eyes, and I took a sip of my drink before setting it on the ground beside his shoe. The black leather toe shined under the barely there light and my cock ached in my pants. "Can I kiss your feet?"

"Pardon me?" Ford's eyes went wide, and he bent halfway over to bring himself closer to where I was on my knees.

"Can I kiss your feet, Sir?" I corrected myself, but Ford shook his head with a surprised laugh.

"I wasn't asking you to repeat yourself for the Sir, sweetheart. I just didn't think I'd heard you right." He pulled his lips between his teeth, stare flickering from my face to his foot. "You can do it if you tell me why you want to."

If there was one thing about Ford, he wasn't afraid to make me use my words, even if there were times when I would have rather not. But it was his insistence that I give life to my thoughts that had brought us to where we were, and I understood the importance of explaining myself to him. Not only did it turn me on to say some of my fantasies out loud, it helped him believe I wanted them for myself and not just for him.

"I like how it feels to be here, and I want to thank you for bringing me," I said.

Ford gave me a jerky nod, and I shifted my body lower, shoving my ass into the air in front of him so I could get my mouth closer to his shoe. A voice in the back of my head told me I should have been embarrassed to be kissing another man's feet, let alone doing it in public, but all I found in response to the worry was an overwhelming sense of rightness. When my lips pressed against the leather for the first time, precum spurted from the slit in my cock, smearing across my underwear as if to demonstrate my body's approval of the action.

Curling one hand around the back of his knee, I parted my lips enough for my tongue to drag across the leather of Ford's shoe. My fingers dug into his leg as I dragged my mouth toward the waxed black laces and back to the toe again. I hadn't meant to slobber all over his feet, but a simple peck didn't seem like thanks enough for everything the man above me had brought into my life.

In those brief moments, I knew without a doubt I'd fallen in love with Ford. Those feelings opened up an entire new host of problems that I didn't think either of us was ready to deal with. Things had moved so quickly, but they were also so right neither of us had fought terribly long or hard against them. Love, though…love was another complication entirely.

"Boston." Ford's voice sounded like sandpaper.

With a great deal of reluctance, I pulled my mouth off his shoe. Transfixed by the outline of my lips and the trails of spit I'd left on the already shiny leather, it was Ford's hand around my wrist pulling me to my feet that finally forced me to turn my attention from his feet to his face. His lips were parted and his nostrils flared with every heaving breath, and again he scanned my face for some answer that I think he found…whether he wanted it or not.

Without another word, he spun us, shoving my body into the corner and crashing our mouths together. My shoe knocked into my cocktail on the floor, spilling it beneath out feet, but Ford's knee was pressed hard and insistent between my legs and his hand worked furiously at my pants to get my fly down. His tongue dove deep into my mouth and I had no choice but to yield completely. Going pliant beneath him, it was heaven to let Ford use my body in whatever way he needed.

He kissed me until I couldn't breathe, and then his fingers were wrapped around my achingly hard erection. He stroked me with short and tight pulls of his wrist. I came like that, with my shoulders digging into the brick behind me and his mouth half on mine, half on my chin. Ford kissed me like a man possessed, and I knew in that moment it was a gift. It was a treasure to be wanted in the way Ford wanted me.

His name fell out of my mouth on a whimper as my cum spilled over his fingers, and he growled, that same possessive sound he'd made when we first got to the club and he said I was his. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe, but Ford's fingers around my cock were tight and steady, still stroking, even though he'd already wrung all the cum out of me with the first orgasm.

He choked out my name again, bringing his sticky fingers up between us and smearing my cum across my lips and my face.

"Open," he demanded, and I did.

He shoved his fingers into my mouth.

"Suck," he told me, and again I did.

I thought he'd worked all the cum out of me with his hand, but with his fingers halfway down my throat, pressing down hard against my tongue, more found its way out the tender slit of my dick. I choked around his fingers, and he raised his other hand to the back of my head, cradling me away from the wall but also making sure his fingers stayed right where he wanted them. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I swirled my tongue around his fingers, licking him clean.

After another gasp for air, he tore his hand out of my mouth and then leaned in. His eyes were fraught with some emotion that had to have been more than arousal, and for the very first time, I let myself wonder if it was possible for Ford to love me in return. A man like Ford didn't do love, and I didn't want to set myself up for heartbreak by thinking him possible of it.

He dragged his tongue across my face, flat and hot. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back against his hand so he could reach where he wanted, and after he'd licked all of the cum off my chin and my cheeks, he crashed our mouths together, licking the rest of it out of my mouth.

Everything about the way he handled me was frantic, and when he shoved me back to my knees, I was already half drunk from his kisses. My cock was still out, half hard and stuck to my pants, and Ford freed his own erection with a practiced ease. He tapped himself against my lips, swollen and already parted for him. With a rough grunt, he shoved his cock into my mouth, fucking my face with as much urgency as he'd just used during our kisses.

There were no slow movements, no explanations of what was coming next, just the sharp and almost angry snaps of his hips while he used my mouth to get himself off. It should have been demoralizing, but kissing his feet should have been the same. All it did was make me harder. Pride swelled in my chest. I was the one who had turned him this way. I was the one who'd made him so dizzy with need that he'd forgotten himself around me until he had no option but to give into the base needs of his body.

Ford threaded his fingers into my hair and buried his dick into the back of my throat with one last thrust. It wasn't the first time he'd been that deep inside of me, but it was the first time he came that far, jets of his spend painting the back of my throat as he spilled. Half bowed over me, Ford's entire body trembled, and I obediently sucked and lapped at his cock until he was well and truly finished.

With a full body shiver, Ford pulled me back to my feet and took my face into his hands. His fingers were still wet with my cum and my spit, and they shook as he dug them into my cheeks .

"I'm good," I promised him, knowing it was the answer he was after even before he asked the question.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, eyes doing another rapid scan of my face. "I shouldn't have?—"

"I'm not sorry." I covered his hands with mine, our cocks warm and sticky against each other, still out of our pants. There was something indecent about being fully dressed but having the most private parts of our bodies out in the open. "I'm not sorry, Ford. I loved all of that. I loved it so much, I lo?—"

Before I could finish the thought, Ford slammed his mouth back into mine, using his skilled tongue to push whatever declaration I'd been about to give him back into my throat where it belonged. I slid my hands around his waist and situated him against me. Taking my cock back into his hand, he gave it a squeeze.

"I need you to come again, sweetheart," he said, and the tone of his voice let me know it wasn't a request.

Every part of me was on fire, from my cock to my heart. I wanted to tell him I loved him, wanted to show him. I needed him to know before I left that everything between us was so much more than what I'd meant for it to be, but I wouldn't change any of it for the world. Ford had opened my eyes in more ways than one, and I loved every second of it.

I loved him.

"I don't know if I have another one in me right now."

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart." He kissed the corner of my mouth, the underside of my jaw, then he licked a hot stripe up to my ear where he bit my lobe so hard I whimpered and went weak in the knees. "If I want it, I'll find a way to get it."